Monday, December 29, 2014

The first draft was finished on the 14th of December, which means I should not have looked at it again until yesterday. Yeah, that didn't work. I started the first read-through this Saturday past (the 27th) and finished it this morning. Although, if you want to be picky, I did the comment read on the 22nd, so perhaps it wasn't even twelve days?

The first time I go back to a manuscript (mss), I take a look at all the comments I've left myself and deal with those first. For this mss, that meant finding street names for some of the locations as well as double checking some information. Concerning the street names, there's a wonderful map of the city that's recently been released and I used it often for reference. Not only has the shape of Manhattan changed as the city has been constantly re-invented over the centuries, but most of the street names were dropped after the Revolutionary War, replaced with more patriotic ones (Queen's Street, for example is now Pearl Street). I used the original names, so if you, like me, like to reference a map as you read, you'll have to use the above link, not a modern-day map of the city.

So that first pass, back on the 22nd, just involved finding information and taking care of those margin notes. Not really an edit, more of a "filling in".

But on Christmas Day, after all the presents were unwrapped, the dinner enjoyed, the merriment shared, the house quieted and I came upstairs with the intention of putting away boxes and wrapping paper.

And then it called out to me from the depths of my computer. "Look at me," it called. "Come, see what you have wrought."

I caved.

This read is primarily for continuity. For example, I have a minor character who comes in about halfway through the book and has some small action in several scenes. First he was Tommy, then Bobby, then Billy. Mostly in that order, although I did go back and forth between the two B names for a while. Reading it through this time, I decided on Tommy - and made all the appropriate changes.

I'm really not good with character name continuity. When I started, I wasn't sure of the proper address for a Baronet, so I often had people call him "Baronet St. James." Nope. Should be "Sir Christopher." I think I could even get away with the occasional "my lord," although I chose not to. Despite their loyalty to England, these are Americans after all, and it seemed some of the formality might have started to wear off. So those got changed.

Mrs. Galloway (a busybody who has lots of news to bring) was Jane to begin with, then Grace when I learned she really existed. The book is a mixture of real and fictional people, so making sure I stayed true to their names was important. Elizabeth Floyd, our heroine's best friend, for example, is a real person. Her story is partly told in this book (I'm thinking the rest of her story might be my next book - there is a fascinating tidbit about her in the footnotes of history. Don't look it up if you don't want spoilers, though!). But those historical footnotes alternately call her "Elizabeth" and "Eliza". So I made it so our heroine call her by her nickname and everyone else by her more formal name. Or by "Miss Floyd" if they don't know her well at all.

So you can see, the naming conventions alone were enough to warrant a separate read-through just to make sure I got them all. And that's not even including the military ranks of several characters who come and go toward the end!

In the process of this read, I also found places where more action or description was needed. I'm not a linear writer, so now that the story is done, I found the places where a reference could be made that set up something later in the book. Likewise, I found places that needed setting up, and wrote lines or, in one case, an entire new scene that did just that.

The first draft came in a 75,760 words. This second draft (finished this morning) stands at 76,750 words - which is 990 words longer. I took out words, sentences, sometimes entire paragraphs, and added others but the result is a slightly longer novel. At this point. We'll see what happens during the next several passes.

And what's in store for those? Habit words, I think. You can see the original counts in my last post. I'll do a second pass at them for comparison's sake before I start, but I doubt there will be any significant changes.

Monday, December 22, 2014

I know I said I wasn't going to look at REVOLUTION until next week, but I find myself this morning with time on my hands. I don't want to start a new story until I've put this one to bed, my Christmas presents are all wrapped, the house is clean...what else is there to do but edit?

First step was to go through all the comments I'd made myself and deal with them. This morning I spent looking up small details I wanted to include but needed historical references. In other words, I spent about a half an hour looking up things like, "What did young women read for pleasure in 1777 New York?" and "What is a good dock for a smuggler to use?" Fun stuff!

I had already created my Wordle, but I have other habit words I know I'm overly fond of using. So my next step today was to go through and do a quick word count of each one so I know if I actually succeed in getting rid of any instances of these words.* The counts are somewhat alarming:

LOTS of editing needed here. Nothing like seeing the words in a visual format to alert you to your laziness!

I haven't highlighted the words in my mss yet. I'll do that later, after I've done a read-through for continuity and plot holes.Might as well fix those first, then go back - these word counts could get a lot worse before they get better. :(

But I like having a baseline. I'm all about the data, so, for me, this is part of the picture of the story in it's first iteration. Painters use brushes, knives, paints to create art, For me, comments, Wordles, word counts, even the story outline are all tools I use to work on my art (the manuscript).

Not going to do too much more. I'm sure there's something around the house that needs cleaning...

Play safe!
Diana

* If you want a quick tutorial on how to use Microsoft Word's feature that lets you do this, click here - the directions are in the second part of the post.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

That's what I have to keep telling myself. Don't look at that manuscript for at least a week. Two weeks, if you can stand it.

I finished the first draft of REVOLUTION four days ago. The very next day I did the story board/chapter analysis and found the holes and imbalances that need to be addressed. Today I did my Wordle to look for my habit words...gee, you think I got some work to do? :)

If you've never used Wordle, you should. It finds the most-used words in your text and makes them quite large, as you can see. Obviously, I like the words "back," "just," "hand," "one," "know," and "man" the most. They're my habit words and, in one of the several passes I'll take over the next few weeks, I'll get those words to be a lot smaller. I always print out a first Wordle before I start editing so I can see just how far I have to go.

NOTE: one of the features I like about the Wordle website, it that it lets me delete all the names and titles, reorganizing the remaining words and adjusting their sizes. Since I refer to my characters by name all the time, "Clara" and "St. James" were the biggest words on the thing!

But for right now, I'm putting it away. Giving myself at least a week away from it so I can come back to it with fresh eyes. It's a technique I recommend for everyone. When you haven't looked at something in a while, you are more objective - and that's what I want. Right now I'm too close to the story, to the characters and all their foibles. I know what I meant when I wrote each sentence.

Distance, however, will tell me if I actually SAID what I meant.

And, if I'm being honest, the timing for this is perfect this time around. Not only are the holidays here, but I'm having arthroscopic surgery done on my knee tomorrow. I'm counting on those pain meds to keep me loopy...and one never wants to edit when one is not entirely in touch with reality. :)

So, the analysis is done, the first Wordle complete. Now I'll stay away from the manuscript. You have permission to slap my hands if I don't.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Welcoming Lexi Post to the blog today. She's got a great piece of advice for those of you struggling with The Black Moment! Here's Lexi...!

I have to chuckle to myself for choosing this topic. As my
critique partner will tell you, I dread The Black Moment when writing a
book. Sure, as a reader of romance, I
enjoy living through that terrible time when it looks like the hero and heroine
may not make it together as a couple. That’s because as a reader, I have
complete faith in the author’s ability to bring these characters through to a
glorious happily ever after made much better by having gone through the worst
of times. Maybe that’s why I love epilogues, because The Black Moment
makes them so rewarding.

But as a writer, I dread The Black Moment. Unlike my lovely
critique partner who is very good at torturing her hero and heroine
(emotionally, that is), by the time I come to that part of the story, I have so
fallen in love with my two main characters, and so want them to have a
wonderful life together, that it kills me.
Okay, obviously I’m still alive, but it does wipe me out. For me, The Black
Moment is many nights of anguish at the computer.

In an effort to handle this significant obstacle, I have
developed some tools for tackling this part of my stories. If The Black Moment
is a tough spot for you as well, these may help. I’ll use some of my books as
examples.

First, since The Black Moment is the most difficult piece
for me to write, I make sure before I start writing that I know what it will be
about. For plotters, this is a no brainer, but I am 90% pantser. This is one of
the key elements of the other 10% that I must know before I begin, so I can
write toward that dreaded moment. All my characters’ goals and motivations must
direct me to that one point in time. For example, in MASQUE, I knew ahead of
time that my hero, Synn, would betray my heroine. I know! That’s
how I felt. But having determined that would happen, I then had to figure out
how to still make Synn honorable and his betrayal somehow understandable. In
the end, his goal was incredibly worthy, to help 73 souls cross over, his
motivation solid, and even if the reader didn’t agree with him, Synn’s 150
years of guilt certainly made him sympathetic.

Second, I have learned to have faith that I will figure out
how the characters come through the darkness and into the light. That’s right.
I don’t always know how I am going to get my two characters through The Black
Moment when I start writing. If you can determine how to overcome the dark for
the good of the couple ahead of time, you are in a lot better shape. For me, as
I’ve written more and more, I have learned to trust myself that I will figure
out how they will overcome in a legitimate way. Basically, if we can get them
into this emotional mess, we can figure out how to get them out. In PASSION OF SLEEPY
HOLLOW, the hero looks just like Katrina’s past fiancé, so when she calls
him by her late fiancé’s name, he has had it. I knew that would happen when I
started the book, but had no idea how the two would come back together. In this
case, Katrina had to let her past go. Of course, that’s easier said than done
when she still lives in the 1790s and the hero lives in present day :-}

Third, I find that it is important to determine if the cause
of The Black Moment is going to be an outside force, an inside force, or a
combination of both. What I mean by an outside source is something like the villain
forcibly marrying the heroine, or the hero is shot, bleeding and no one can
find him, or the evil witch changes the lady into a hawk. These can cause some
significant angst on the part of the main characters. On the other hand, I
consider an inside source one that comes from the characters themselves, be it
his honor refusing to forgive her, her loyalty to her family trumping their
love, or his duty to the Grand Wizard making him give her up. I think this
inner force is truly gut wrenching for the reader. A real roller coaster of emotion can occur
when both outside and inside forces come together at that pitch black moment in
the story . In PASSION’S
POISON, the outside source of conflict is Bea’s condition. When she has sex
with a man, she releases poisons that make him sick but if she doesn’t release
her poisons, she will die. If she has too much sex with one man, she will kill
him. The outside source in this black moment is critical because when she
almost kills the hero, she discovers she loves him too much to go back to
one-night-stands (here the inner source comes into play). Not a good position
for her to be in.

Fourth, whichever source for The Black Moment is chosen, it
is important that the moment and its consequential outcome be significantly
emotional. If the fact that the heroine is now a hawk has the hero simply
becoming determined to find a way to break the curse, it is not enough. He must
feel to the depths of his soul the loss of the woman he loves. He must be willing to do whatever it takes,
including losing his honor, to restore her. He must be devastated by the turn
of events. He must do and say things he has never done before nor ever thought
he would do, but will now because of his lady love. In CRUISE INTO EDEN, an
erotic ménage, The Black Moment is partially internal and partially external.
This occurs when the heroine discovers Nase and Ware are responsible for her
celibacy for the last 11 years. This discovery after she has fallen for them is
devastating for her. However, it is also devastating for them and they turn on
each other. In the end, they approach the situation in the complete opposite
way than they do anything else in life as they will do anything to get her
back.

Fifth, and last, thankfully, (even writing about The Black
Moment is exhausting for me), is the timeframe. I find this to be extremely
tricky. How long to leave the two estranged lovers in anguish? If the situation is rectified too soon, then
it doesn’t appear to have been truly black and more of just a grey moment.
Leave the two separated and hurt for too long, and the reader loses patience. In my most recent release, COWBOYS NEVER FOLD,
Wade is faced with the woman he loves planning to go nude at her nudist resort.
For him, this is a core, though unexamined value and it is so deeply rooted in
his upbringing that he can’t reconcile her action. This means he can’t just have
a change of heart. Something must convince him or her, if they are to have a
happily ever after. Oh yes, and then the villain must intervene as well. Can’t
have the happily ever after come too easily, now can we? So it takes a number
of scenes and outside influences to get Wade to come around. Inside sources for
The Black Moment tend to take longer to resolve than outside sources to make a
truly satisfying happily ever after.

And that is the reward, is it not? The happily ever after?
The blacker the moment, the brighter the finale. The more trials and
tribulations our characters go through to find and hold on to love, the more
rewarding for our readers. Wow, after all this talk of The Black Moment, I
think I need to read one of my epilogues again. Did I mention I love epilogues?

Author
Bio:

Lexi Post is an award-winning author of erotic romance. She spent years in
higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she
loved. From Edgar Allan Poe's short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to the
20th century American epic The Grapes of
Wrath, from War and Peace to the Bhagavad Gita, she's read, studied, and
taught wonderful classics.

But Lexi's first love is romance novels. In an effort to marry her two first
loves, she started writing erotic romance inspired by the classics and found
she loved it. Lexi believes there is no end to the romantic inspiration she can
find in great literature for her sexy love stories. Her books are known as
"erotic romance with a whole lot of story." In 2014 she won both the
Aspen Gold Readers Choice Award and the Passionate Plume Award.

Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her cat in
Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and
you will never see her without a hat (unless she is going incognito).

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Yesterday I finished my NaNoWriMo novel. The working title is still REVOLUTION, but that's really a description of the setting rather than the action. It takes place during the American Revolution but the conflict is really between two people who each have their own agenda and secretly conspire to use the other as a cover for illicit activities.

I'm a pantser. I've confessed to that many times (here and here, for details). One of the things I learned during this intensive month and a half of writing is that, perhaps because I'm a pantser, I do not write in a linear fashion. I write, think of a scene or part of a scene I want to insert to set up the current scene I'm working on and go do that, then come back and move forward again. Sometimes I even write a scene totally out of context and then write "bridge" scenes to get the characters to that point.

But I don't write in a straight line, and that's something the NaNoWriMo focus on getting the story out promotes. Write the entire novel, in thirty days' time, from start to finish. I'll tell you, it was an interesting experiment.

What I found, in writing that way, was that I'd leave myself a lot more notes in the margins ("Insert Comment" became my best friend in Microsoft Word) about: 1) things I needed to look up because its a historical and I didn't want to stop the flow of writing to remember a street name; or, more often, 2) scenes I'd need to insert later or a loose end I'd have to deal with once the first draft was done. Now that the draft is finished (YAY!), I have those notes to deal with.

But I also found I started to lose the characters partway through. Not that they changed a lot, just that I gave them feelings/thoughts/ideas, that I hadn't set up in any way. Traits and sometimes words that came out of the blue. Not so much for me, because I knew what they meant. But the reader would look at that speech and say, "What? Where did THAT come from?" By the time I got near the climax, I found myself just writing stuff down to get finished so I could go back and fix all those notes. They were hanging around in the back of my conciousness, pestering, asking when I would get to them. "Fix me! Fix me now!" they would scream at me until, sometimes, I ignored them so long I totally forgot what needed fixing.

And so, late last night I started a story plot. The voices in my head kept me awake until I gave in, got up, and started it. If you're a writer, you'll understand. If you're not, you probably think I should be committed by this point.

Now, I've never done a full story plot for any of my books. I have notes on scrap paper, doodles to myself to remind me of something, but no full, honest-to-goodness, story plot. Axl Rose developed one he shared at Romanticon 2014 and, since it was in Excel and I'm good with that program, I decided to give his a shot. I didn't use all the pages he developed, only the Timeline By Chapter. He broke the timeline down into several categories, including a synopsis of the chapter, the character conflict, the story conflict and a line for a subplot.

After plotting out four chapters last night, I realized I needed another row: Main plot (romance). The sub-plot was the revolution and their secret activities. I also added a row for characters that were introduced in that chapter, more as a reference point than anything else. I tried to add a page numbers row, but Excel gave me fits at that point and kept changing my numbers to dates no matter what I did to clear the formatting of the cell, so I added those afterward by hand (more on that in a bit).

To plot out the entire 75K word story, took me about five hours. An hour last night, followed by four this morning. And what did I learn by doing this activity? Plenty.

I learned I changed the names of some of the minor characters (there's a servant who goes from Tom to Bobby to Billy. I like Bobby and will edit to fix that).

I learned I introduced characters and then let them drop without another reference. Likewise, I had characters show up out of no where who need more of a set-up.

I learned I have a bit of a timeline problem right near the end. It's clear on my calendar (yes, I downloaded a calendar from 1777 and have kept track of the action on it to keep it straight), but I don't think it's as clear in the story as to what happened to a pair of days. They didn't just disappear. Honest.

I learned that, by taking the time to go back and look at story and character arcs, I can tell where I need work on smoothing them out. Something I teach but don't always practice (slaps own hand).

I learned that I didn't write even chapters. Usually my chapters are between 10-14 pages. This book the chapters are between 6-18 pages. A little out of balance for my tastes. Will look and see if some re-dividing is necessary.

I learned that I stayed pretty even between action regarding the romantic plot and the political plot, but I do have some parts that are solely focused on one or the other. Will revisit those chapters to determine if I need to beef up one plot or the other in that area.

And I learned that, despite all the holes I found that need fixing, the story is in much better shape and is far more consistent than I thought it was. A positive! When I write without stopping, I CAN still keep most of the story in my head and stay true to characters.

Overall, this is a tool for revising more than editing. I know I tend to use those terms interchangeably, but editing is more about keeping the same character name, the same hair color, the right spelling, punctuation and grammar. Revising is more about character and plot arcs, about the organization of the story, and the balance of the action (i.e, the chapter length). While this did alert me to some editing that's needed, it really has shone a light on the revising I have to do.

So, a full, 75,000 word novel in six weeks for the first draft. I'd say that was a good use of time. I'm expecting to take about a month with the revision/editing process and then it'll be ready for my beta readers. As to the publishing? Still haven't made decisions, but I thank those of you who sent me ideas. Keep 'em coming! This is NOT an erotic romance, so EC is not the right venue. Self-pubbing is an option, but I'd like to hit a wider audience with this. Keeping an open mind!

I'll post more about using a story outline/ story board, as I go through the revisions. Suffice it to say, I learned a lot just by creating it!

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Okay, so we're ten days past the end of NaNoWriMo and I'm just finding time to write about it. Why? Because the writing habit started in November has carried over into December...just as I hoped it would. While it actually takes longer than 21 days to set a new habit, my hope was that I'd see the fruits of my hard work and want to keep going. Or that the story I started in November would bug the heck out of me until I finished it. I was fine with either excuse as long as I could keep up the writing habit.

Because ultimately, that's what writing is for me. A habit I don't want to break. I can't *NOT* think of stories, so I might as well write them down. Then edit them. Then decide what to do with them.

I actually wrote just over 52,000 words on REVOLUTION (the working title for my current work-in-progress) during November. Today I broke the 70,000 word mark and I'm thinking it'll come in somewhere between 75-80K by the time I'm done. There's only one problem.

It isn't an erotic romance.

I tried to make it one. The suggestive glances, the appreciative stares...and the characters rebelled. Both the hero and the heroine informed me, in no uncertain terms, that THEY weren't like that. THEY were a proper lady and gentleman and, though they might occasionally have thoughts of that nature (him more than her, since she's barely aware of how babies are formed) neither of them are into BDSM of any sort.

And yet, I still managed to write a novel that's over 70K - without a single sex scene! To be honest, I usually count on my sex scenes to go for three to five thousand words. Put four sex scenes in a novel and it's half written right there. Characters have always been of primary importance to me, rather than plot, so it's probably not really a surprise that I can turn them loose in the bedroom and watch the fireworks happen. The windows get steamy, but I don't care - I'm in the room with them and we're all having fun!

REVOLUTION, however, has turned out to be a more traditional historical romance. A "sweet" romance, if you will. And therein lies my problem...

Where in the world do I publish it? Diana Hunter readers expect BDSM scenes -- and there aren't any. Mystic Shade readers expect very naughty scenes of hard bondage and pain -- and there's none of that, either. So maybe I publish under a different name entirely...although Diana Allandale hasn't had a lot of success with her short stories (in fact, I pulled them at one point, intending to write a few more and repub it under Diana Hunter, but I got busy with other stories...).

So NaNoWriMo was a success for me. I wrote (am writing!) a novel of over 50K - and, let's be clear here, I really, really like this book. Christopher St. James and Clara Simpson are two very independent people who have an incredibly strong attraction to one another, even though each of them is hiding a secret from the other. I've had fun doing the research, fun learning about the British occupation of New York in 1777 and fun getting to know these two and their many friends.

Here's the most current blurb for the book:

Baronet Christopher St. James provides the perfect cover for Clara to slip a note through enemy lines and to her brother in the Continental Army. The man is such a fop, with his lace sleeves and fancy bows, he'll never realize how he's been used.But the Baronet has problems of his own, and using Clara Simpson to worm his way into the elite echelon that is New York society, gives him the perfect way to spy on the Loyalist enemy, right within their very own parlors....

So, after years of trying, I finally wrote a book in a month...and a half. By this time next week, it'll be done and ready for edits.

Let me tell ya', writing the hot,
sensual, erotic, pulse-throbbing, limb-numbing love scene is only slightly less
fun than participating in one. Writing it might be better because there are
usually no miscues, no unseemly noises, no falling asleep right after it's
over.

Actually, I like to write a scene
that doesn't quite make it. I love to frustrate my hero. He becomes embarrassed
in his "failure" and then obsessed with making it up to the heroine.
I love a man who tries harder.

In truth, who can live up to what
we come up with in our imaginations? The kind of love making we write primarily
takes place at the beginning of a relationship and/or during some dangerous or
suspenseful situation which is often hotter than it devolves into as the years
go by. That's what makes it a romance novel. The initial pulse-pounding
excitement of new love, whether it's graphic or more sweetly written.

And I'm not saying that love
making down the road in a relationship can't be pulse-pounding, limb-numbing
sex, but generally, romance novels are about the dawn of love.

Let me list a few guidelines that
I use — certainly not a complete list — for writing my love scenes:

1. Pretend I'm the camera circling around my couple,
viewing them from all angles.

2. Close my eyes (most of us are probably touch
typists), go into my "zone," and run the scene through my imagination.

3. Choreograph my characters' actions step by
step, knowing where their hands and legs and lips are at all times.

4. Use a delicate flick or brush of a fingertip
to focus attention in a particular place. This makes the love scene, which is
already a personal thing, even more intimate and focused.

5. And, not least — I sometimes use humor to
give the scene another dimension.

I'll use some of my own favorite
scenes/examples to illustrate my points.

Panic. It's too fast. He bent to kiss her. He nudged his hips between her
thighs, spread them, canted up her knees, his lips covering hers, consuming her
mouth, and with no more preliminaries, no more foreplay than that, he plunged
in. She uttered one low, continuous moan. It felt glorious. God, he was big,
expanding, filling her unused muscles, forcing them to accept his length and
breadth. He stretched out over her, straight-armed himself up again, and
started to withdraw.

"Christ. Christ. Oh…damn."
He was wild-eyed, shaking his head, hot breath puffing out like a steam engine.

She whimpered a no at what she
thought was the loss of him. Then, he dipped in, did a little something with
his hips, a little swirl just inside the entrance to her vagina. "Yes…yes…yes…"
She squeezed her eyes closed at the delicious feel of him, arched up to meet
him.

Balanced on one arm, he hooked her
leg and pulled her knee upright, sliding inside further.

"God," she wailed and
raised her other knee. Now, he was in all the way, filling her deeply, stroking
every little nerve ending. "Oh, God!" It had been months and months,
she was extremely sensitive, and he was magnificent.

It couldn't have been more than
five thrusts, and he came. He stopped, buried as deeply as possible and nudged
at her.

She moaned and tossed her head,
felt the throb of his ejaculation. Any second now he'd do it again, and she'd
come. God, he's heavy. No longer straight-armed above her he was crushing her
chest. She opened her eyes and really looked at him. Still inside her, he
groaned, a self-satisfied sound, his eyes closed, his face nestled against her
ear.

Goddamn.
He's asleep. The son of a bitch is asleep!

* * * * *

More from HOME TO STAY -

focused attention…

Hank suggested a certain purchase
to Nickie…

He thought he might bawl. His head
spun. Bare. Naked. Skin. "Damn,"
he rasped into her mouth. "You bought 'em. The thong." He pulled her
tighter against his hard, pulsing cock. "Goddamn." High on her hips,
he sought the elastic band from the top of the T stretched across the shallow
indentations above her ass. His forefinger delved down, tracing the path of her
crack. "Jesus Christ, Almighty," he intoned reverently.

Neither breathed now.

He wanted inside her. Wanted to
push her down and thrust inside her. His palm caressed her pussy, his fingers
led him to her wet heat. Closer and closer. He inched the elastic aside. Dizzy
with lust and hope, he lightly pinched her folds, slicking through the
moisture. She seemed to be as lost as he was, moaning softly, continuously, and
shimmying on his hand, pushing, urging him, pulling him into her heat.

She was so wet, so hot, so ready.
He wanted to take his time, wanted to do this slowly, wanted the maximum
pleasure for both of them. And, he didn't know if he could take it slow. Almost
terrified at the intensity of his feelings, he knew he was in this too far to
stop.

His lips skimmed over her face, her
moans and soft pleas rasped in the night air. He circled the softening entrance
to her body, the scent of her arousal drawing him in deeper. His thumb nudged
her hot, stiff clit. "I owe you," he groaned.

"Uh…yeah."

That was all the permission he
needed. He thrust two fingers inside her, filling her; his lips took the sound
of her guttural growl as she arched into him.

Hard thrusts in, slow, dragging
pulses pulling out. Over and over until she was stretched as tightly as a bow.
And he was the arrow. She was wet…so hot…tight. On the verge of coming—he could
feel the rippling contractions on his fingers—she panted and ground against
him.

"Oh, God," she whimpered.

He placed his lips at her ear. "Come
on, baby. I'm here." Slow and easy, he slid his fingers in and out. In
hard, out slowly.

"Do what, Val?" He made
his voice ingratiating, as if he didn't know what she wanted. I know what I
want. To push her knees apart and thrust his cock as far in as it could go.
Restraining his wild need, he gazed directly into her eyes. "What do you
want me to do, sweetheart?"

"Unh, you know." She
arched her back, thrusting her breasts in his face.

Her gem-hard, little nipples rasped
on his cheek. His voice went low and whispery. "Tell me what you want me
to do," as his lips caressed the outer curve of one breast.

"Unh…"

"Say it." He lapped a wet
path down her center, then nuzzled his nose into the fold under her breast.
"Tell…" Nip. "…me." Lick. Nip.

"Put…your…mouth…on…" She
was obviously in shivery agony, her quick breaths joggling his head.

"Where?" Rafe's mouth
hovered over a nipple, letting his hot breath bathe her. Letting her
anticipate. Torturing himself in the process.

"Nipple." She stretched
the word out, a shrill order.

With a loud, snorting, flumping
sound, Rafe obeyed and engulfed as much of her breast as he could get into his
mouth.

"Oh, Jesus."

He heard her, knew it was more than
she expected, and chuckled inwardly. Then he drew his lips up and suckled her
in earnest. Suckle. Swirl. Suckle. Nip. Lap. Her head rolled from side to side.
She'd drawn her knees up on either side of his hips and knocked them
frantically into him.

"I haven't had an orgasm,
other than self-induced, in years," she whispered.

He cocked his head. "Pardon
me? Years? You mean since your husband died."

She rubbed a hand over her face,
pinching the bridge of her nose.

He threaded his fingers through the
hair at her temple and smoothed it back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"Ken, my husband, was ill the
last few years of his life." She didn't want to say any more, hoping Gil
would understand.

"I'm sorry," he said
again. "You had a rough time of it."

Tears gathered in her eyes, but she
blinked them back. "I don't want to talk about that right now," she
whispered.

"Okay, honey. Let's talk about
this."

He brushed gentle fingers over her
cheeks, against the corner of her mouth and covered her lips with his. She forgot
the past. She concentrated on how wonderful it felt to be in his arms, to touch
his skin, to curl her fingers around his muscular shoulders. His pony tail
dropped over his shoulder and tickled the side of her face.

In the recesses of her consciousness,
she heard dogs barking and tore her mouth away from his. "Gil, someone
might be coming."

He nuzzled the hollow of her
throat, eliciting a responsive moan from her.

"Gil." She gave his
shoulders a little push. When he pulled up, she immediately missed the
blanketing warmth of his body. A breeze cooled the heated perspiration coating
her skin, making her shiver.

He got the message just as two
greyhounds loped up to them, stopping short to cock their heads at the humans.
Pulling the sides of her sweater together, she hastily buttoned it leaving her
bra undone. Gil grabbed his shirt and slipped it back on. The dogs were soon
followed by their owner.

"Hello, Mrs. Smithson,"
she greeted the older woman, hoping her smile didn't look like that of a guilty
teenager.

He didn't know exactly why but one
dancer, eyes downcast, drew his gaze. Her feet slowly tapping a pulsing rhythm,
she raised her skirts above her ankles, white frothy petticoats contrasted
against her deep red gown. Then she hiked her skirts further, the ruffles
cascading down her side. He stared at her narrow stamping feet, her long slim
legs encased in black stockings. Her free arm sinuously, gracefully waved above
her head. At the same moment his gaze touched her face, her head snapped up and
her dark eyes met his.

And all hell—and heaven—broke
loose.

Frozen in place, his arm, whiskey
glass in hand, arrested as it rose to his lips. He clenched his other hand into
a tight fist. Holding his breath, aware of the heat blanketing his chest and
flaring through his belly, he heard a buzzing, like dozens of bees all fighting
a range war in his ears. Blinking once, slowly, and realizing his mouth was
open, he closed it with a snap of teeth. Grasping the warm stone arch next to
him helped recover his equilibrium.

Turning her face away, she twirled
around tapping out a beat echoing in every thud of his heart. Young innocent
eyes, wide eyes, locked on his again. As she moved, bending and weaving her
graceful dancer's body and arms, her sensuous Madonna smile teased him. After
every spinning turn, she unerringly found him in the crowd. His body, after its
long deprivation of female companionship, reacted to the messages sent down by
his brain. Heat radiated from his trembling middle like too much whiskey on an
empty stomach. Except this feeling was a hundred times more joyous and a
hundred times more terrifying—and baffling. The heat washed over him warming
his cold lonely heart. Sweat broke out over his upper lip. Nothing existed
except this moment—no future, no past. Just this. He had lusted before
certainly. But this was more.

The girl was a fine dancer. The
footwork was simple enough but her arms and hands were the focus of her
movements. Her long slim arms demonstrating the push-pull of the lovemaking of
the flamenco hypnotized him. His lips pursed in a silent whistle. He wanted to
wrap his hands around her lean supple waist and caress every inch of her. He
wanted to trail his mouth all over her too—very slowly.

It was almost painful to watch her
face, her amazingly changeable face. She looked sweet and innocent as a kitten
one minute, the next she became sensuous and pouty, eyes flashing, hair flying.
Her dark eyes and red full lips contrasted startlingly against the white of her
face. His throat ached with the rapid beating of his heart and he passingly
wondered why a Mexican girl's skin was so pale.

His breath caught in his throat.
Aroused beyond what he thought possible by her demand and the low rumble of her
voice, he roughly jerked her tunic to her waist. Her bare breasts swollen and
quivering, his mouth watered at the compelling sight of their cherry red tight
nipples. Groaning, he bent his head and closed his mouth around one, suckling
hard, massaging her with his tongue. Sweet woman. Salty from sweat and tasting
of desire. He curled his big hands around her middle and pulled her up, wanting
her closer. She squirmed and wiggled, cried out, raked her fingernails on his
shoulders. Arousal building to the bursting point, he drew on her breast and
rolled her nipple with his tongue until he heard her shrill moans over the
pounding of his heart.

Abruptly, he released her and
dragged his bare chest across her soft breasts. Gripping her cheeks, he angled
his head and took possession of her lips. Parting them, he swept his tongue roughly
in, greedily invading every corner the same way he wanted to shove his cock
into her ripe pussy.

The tunic clinging to her hips had
to come off. Reaching behind his neck, he grabbed her wrists, pulling her arms
above her head, pinning them to the wooden door.

"Yes," Janney growled.
The man he'd fought, it had been the man from last night.

This was a different Marek. The
primal warrior she'd only glimpsed last night. His breathing, harsh and loud,
puffed on her face and neck as he kissed her hard. Her breasts bobbed with her
choppy breaths. He roughly palmed them, cupping and squeezing then together in
one large hand. Groaning gutturally, she arched into him. He jerked her tunic
down. She twisted her hips, frantic for him.

The soft material of his leggings
barely restrained his taut erection. She wanted that. Wanted his thick cock.
Inside her. She rubbed her pussy against his thigh and panted, "Fuck me!"
Hot and ready, begging. "Please…"

Two quick shoves and his leggings
came off. Kicked away.

She was dizzy at the sight of his
jutting cock, as hard and feral as he was. His muscles glistened—bulging
shoulders and thighs. He was huge, overwhelming, overpowering and she wanted
him to master her. To surround her in his potent heat.

His eyes glittered savagely and he
raked his gaze over her body from her confined wrists to her bare scrunching
toes. He ground his cock on her belly, his body slipping and sliding with sweat
against hers.

She hissed in carnal excitement.

With an answering growl, he
released her hands, roughly gripped her bottom and lifted her. "Spread
your legs."

Finally!

He thrust. Deeply.

Triumphant, she tightened her arms
around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Belly to belly. Chest to breast. He
was in. Her slick pussy closed around his heat, taking him home. "God,
yes…" The cry tore out of her. She rocked, felt her interior muscles
fiercely massage him, tighten around him. Started coming.

* * * * *

Here are a few questions that have been asked about erotic
writing. These are just my opinions, so anyone else should jump in here too:

1. What makes
erotic romance good?

If it turns you, as the writer or
reader, on then it's good. What's the point of it otherwise? Warm and fuzzy,
hot and bothered, or you need to run into the other room for your partner or a
device — whatever — that's the point of erotic romance. Whether there's a story
or not, if it doesn't turn you on, then it's not erotic. Sweet or mild sex may turn you on, but erotic must!

2. Do you write
only what appeals to you or cater to the marketplace?

You write both. You can do both if
you're creative. Readers expect certain acts from certain authors or certain
publishers. I've had to creatively write to that without sacrificing how I want
my scene to be. If there are scenes or sex acts or words that you do not want
to write, then look around for another publisher or publish the book yourself.
There's a heat level for every taste out there.

3. Do you
incorporate scenes toward the male audience?

I think we primarily write for women.
I think romance novels are a primer for love making. They show men how women
like things done and what women like. They should be "required
reading" for the male population.

4. What appeals
to males?

I cut out an article from Cosmo a couple years ago called,
"101 Hot Sex Tips from Guys." I thought it would come in handy. There
were some very interesting and surprising things listed from the very obvious
to the very specific. For example:

Sensual fantasies were locked in my mind for years until a
friend said, "Why don't you write them down?" Why not, indeed? One
spiral notebook, a pen and the unleashing of my imagination later, and here I
am with more than a dozen books published. The craft of writing erotic romance
has become my passion and my niche in life. I love every part of the creative
process — developing characters, designing the plot, even drawing the layout of
physical spaces from my stories. My careers have been varied — third grade
school teacher, bookkeeper, secretary — none of which gave me a bit of
inspiration. But now I'm lucky enough to write romance full time — the best job
in the universe!

Monday, November 17, 2014

Did you notice the new tab at the top? I've finally gotten around to giving Mystic Shade her own page here at the website. Check out the page by clicking on the tab above (or click here if you are on a mobile).

But be warned! Mystic's books are not for the faint of heart!!! She's not writing romances, she's writing erotica that is sometimes dark in nature. Remember, she writes,

Monday, November 03, 2014

I need to share something I’ve learned in my research about
the American Revolution that absolutely has me stunned. Because my story
focuses on the British occupation of New York, I’ve had to delve deep into the
Loyalist position.

Now understand this…I have always seen myself as a patriot.
I’ve visited Boston and walked the Freedom Trail, I’ve gone to Philadelphia and
put my hand in the crack of the Liberty Bell. I’ve watched 1776 more times than I can count and I’ve gone to Valley Forge,
Monticello and Mount Vernon…some of them more than once. I like Benjamin
Franklin and Jefferson, would probably fight with John Adams and be a little
bit shy of George Washington. If you asked me the woman from history I’d most
like to meet? Hands down, no contest…Abigail Adams. I have so many questions
I’d love to ask her!

Because I so closely identify with the side of the rebellion
here, I have never really understood the Tory side. Those who called themselves
“Loyalists” always seemed blind to me. How could they want to remain with the
oppressor unless they were 1) evil or 2) stupid?

Well, of course, they weren’t the first. With the exception
of a few who advocated for what today we call a “scorched earth” policy (New
York’s own Governor Tryon among the worst of that lot!), most of the British
officers felt they were in the right to punish malcontents who disrupted the
peace. And make no mistake…the rebels had their share of nasty characters.
Tarring and feathering is painful – and often deadly.

And my research is showing me the Loyalists weren’t stupid,
either. Most shared the rebel’s opinions concerning the wrongness of the taxes,
the abandonment of civil rule for martial law, and the quartering of British
soldiers in their homes. That is what has stunned me. Loyalists felt the same way as the patriots did.

So why didn’t they join the rebellion? That had me stumped
for quite a while, but I get it now. The key lies in the phrase “Unnatural
rebellion.” There’s a book by that title that provides a wonderful, balanced
presentation of opinions by Ruma
Chopra and I highly recommend it. She’s not the only one to explain it, but
she’s the one who helped me understand it the most.

To the patriots, separation from the Mother Country was the
only logical step left for them. They’d tried all the legal means and
Parliament and the King refused to acknowledge the depth of their grievances. The
men of the Second Continental Congress understood and were grateful for all the
help England had given the colonies over the years, but the reality was, we
needed to grow and they didn’t understand that. Separation was the only
alternative.

But to the Loyalists, separation was anathema. It wasn’t
legal. It could never be right. Yes, Parliament didn’t understand the needs of
the colonies, but they only needed the right words, the right speaker and they would understand. The British military
forces were the greatest in the world—why would one not want to be a part of
that? Oaths of loyalty had been taken to King and Country – those were not to
be broken.

So even though New York was under martial law starting the
day after the Howe brothers sailed into the harbor, Loyalists flocked to the
city from all over the colonies not because they felt the British were in the
right, but because they felt the Patriots were in the wrong.

It’s really an Erasmus/Martin Luther situation. Those two
were great friends, both of whom chafed under what they saw as corruption and
wrongdoing in the church they served as priests just a century and a half
before the Revolution. Erasmus counseled for change within the system. Martin
Luther felt a more radical approach was needed, finally listing the ninety-five
things that needed addressing and going very public with them.

We know the upshot of that little list. Because Martin
Luther wouldn’t back down, despite his friend’s pleas to stay with in the
church and work with the other priests, he was tossed out and his followers
started a new church.

Of course, this led to others taking that step as well and
the single church now became many. Those who stayed the course needed a name
for their religion to distinguish it from all the others and chose the word
“catholic” – a word that means “universal.” Those who left were “protest-ants”
because they were protesting the wrongs within the church. Hence, they became
the “Protestants.”*

I’m sure there are many more examples throughout history,
but the point is, I’m getting it now. When people are stomped on and their
rights taken away, when they are not paid a living wage and are starving and
hungry, some will go outside the law and rebel and others will work within the
law to change the situation.

I just realized something else. Tomorrow Americans head to
the polls to vote for Governors and state representatives. Some of us also have
law proposals on the ballot that we need to make decisions about. It is our
chance to work within the law to make changes we feel strongly about.

Am I still a patriot? Yes. Breaking with the rulers who
didn’t understand was the right thing to do then. Am I a rebel today? Less so.
I feel my vote counts and am willing to stay within the system to make a
change. Does that make me a Loyalist? I’m beginning to wonder…

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

I know. Every year I say I'm going to do this and every year I fall apart (here, here and here). Why? Because I taught high school and, here in New York State, grades are due for the first term the second week of November. I'd have great intentions, then get flooded with term papers to grade, tests to evaluate, projects to assess. Anyone who still thinks teachers work only 40 hours a week is living in the stone age.

Besides which, November, for me, is also the lead-up to Christmas. My family usually hosts Thanksgiving, which is a minimum of two full days of preparations. The day after Thanksgiving is decorating day when the entire family is put to "work" and the house is transformed. Christmas carols play for the first time and leftovers abound. And the next day, the Saturday of that long weekend, is baking day. Christmas cookies and, increasingly, Christmas candies come forth from the kitchen while the TV watchers gorge on Christmas specials.

So what makes me think this year will be any different? For one, I'm not teaching. Well, not in that schedule, anyway. I'm adjunct at the local community college, but have no grades due in November. At all. Yay!

For two, we're not hosting Thanksgiving this year. That means the decoration boxes can come down Wednesday night and we can start decorating when we get home on Thursday. We've done that a few times over the years and like the relaxed feel. Of course, my son no longer lives at home, so we'll be one set of hands short, but I think we'll be okay. We've repurposed one of the downstairs rooms over the summer, so it'll be fun to find new places for traditional decorations. Saturday will still be baking day. I think I'd get lynched if I dropped that. :)

All this means more time to actually spend on writing come November 1st.

I've been working on a fantasy for the past few months and had originally decided to make a huge push on it in November. I've changed my mind. There's a historical romance (that will undoubtedly end up erotic in nature) that's niggling at my brain. I'm spending the next two weeks doing historical research so when the clock starts ticking, I'm ready to go. I've already thrown some spaghetti, but need to immerse myself in the world a little more before I can come up with something that sticks.

Speaking of immersing oneself in the world of one's story, I'm doing a workshop in Second Life on that very topic on November 9th. Not sure of the time yet, but probably 1:00 or 2:00 SLT. If you're around, come join the fun! I'll post more details and a SURL when I have it.

If you want to sign up at the official NaNoWriMo site, go ahead. I did this year. Because this year, I'm going to make it all the way to 50,000 words in one month. Honest!

Friday, October 17, 2014

So on Sunday, I got to the Romanticon bookfair to set up my signing area and ten copies of this book are sitting at my spot. Talk about a wonderful surprise! Print copies were done up just for the convention so attendees got sneak peeks at what's coming.

Isn't this a great cover? I love the starkness...the arrangement of positive and negative space with the title (and my name!) so clearly defined.

Slated to be released on November 14th, this print book contains four, count 'em...FOUR of my shorter works:Love in the Afternoon, Promise for Now, Hooked and Stitches in Time.

Two of these stories were in print in the past. Stitches in Time contains one of my favorite characters, Seamus O'Brien, a leprechaun of love-making nature. Originally written for the Irish Enchantment anthology, this novella is still one of my favorites (don't tell my other books that!).

Hooked was first a novella released in ebook only, but then was bought by Penguin when they were thinking of getting into the erotic romance market. As one of the books they bought, it was included in the Getting What She Wants anthology, along with stories by Scott Carpenter and Chris Tanglen. I always liked being sandwiched between two men! Hooked is the story of Tania and Jim. One likes it fast and hot, the other prefers slow and sexy. I think you might be surprised which one likes which.

Love in the Afternoon and Promise for Now are both Quickies that pack a lot of heat into a shorter read. The unnamed characters in the first story enjoy a full afternoon of sensuous activity whereas Carol, in the second story, realizes that her recent divorce now gives her permission to explore her options with her sexy neighbor. ;)

Get out your calendars and mark it down...November 14th, this compilation of four stories goes on sale!

Sidenote: the books at Sunday's sale had a misprint on the back cover of the book. Only three of the four stories was listed (Stitches in Time was inadvertently left off). So those of you who bought the book then, hang onto it! There are only ten of the misprinted covers in existence - and who knows? They might be worth something someday! :)

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Well, there we are...the Original Cavemen and me. These two guys are so incredibly professional (and gorgeous, but that's stating the obvious!). You can tell I'm relaxed with the two of them and don't feel the need to be anyone other than myself.

I will tell a little secret about this picture, though. As we were getting ready, I took in a deep breath and sucked in my gut. I said to CJ, "Don't want to show my belly!" He chuckled and said, "I've got the solution to that!" and he took my hand, holding it so my stomach would be covered. When Rodney reached his hand over as well...the effect was complete! CJ...you're a pro, for sure!

Of course, I got to see old friends, as well. That's Tara Nina in the middle and Cait Miller in red. We're all three members of The Sizzlin' Scribes...a group we formed years ago for the express purpose of combining our money for promotional ads. Somewhere along the way we all became friends and I love getting to see them!

And here we are Blinging our Badges. I have no idea what point I'm making, but I'm doing it with vehemence!

And, of course, RT is also about meeting new people. I sat beside Laurann Dohner for the booksigning on Sunday...she's a wonderful lady and a great author. Thanks to her husband for the picture!

Unfortunately, I didn't get pics of a lot of others I met for the first time. Confession time: I still have a slide phone and it takes crappy pictures. Perhaps by next year I'll have joined the 21st Century and have, not only a smartphone, but one that takes decent photos!

Sunday, October 12, 2014

I haven't been to Ellora's Cave Romanticon Convention since 2010. Not because I didn't want to come, but because getting time off from my day job became extremely difficult (got a new boss who saw no educational value in bringing back information regarding the changes in the publishing world to my Creative Writing students. 'Nuff said.).

But I'm here this year and have to say, its been a lot of fun seeing so many familiar faces. I'll give a special shout-out to my Scribes sisters, Tara Nina and Cait Miller, but I've enjoyed catching up lots of other authors as well as seeing so many of the EC staff. Sat next to Raelene Gorlinsky last night, have had several conversation with Patty Marks and finally got to meet Jose in person!

Of course, one cannot discuss Romanticon and leave out the Cavemen. Rodney and CJ are two of EC's original Cavemen and both were on hand to meet and greet authors and readers. I have a great pic of me with them and will add it to this post when I get home (it needs to be scanned in and I have no scanner here at the convention). Rodney is ever the wonderful host and CJ is just as handsome as ever!

The young bucks who make up the current crop are, of course, also wonderful eye-candy. DeAngelo was the reigning Alpha Caveman -and it isn't hard to see why. He's the tallest of the Cavemen, but its his beautiful blue eyes that catch your attention...that and he's one of the few with hair long enough to run your fingers through. Perfect for a hero of romances!

This afternoon is the book signing from noon 'til 4:00 pm. After that, I head for home. Will upload pics soon!

Saturday, October 04, 2014

That was the best piece of writing advice I got and I no longer remember who gave it to me: Write the book you want to read.

That's why my current work-in-progress is a fantasy. Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed writing erotic romance, and I may go back to the genre in the future, but my first choice, go-to books have always been fantasies. J.R.R. Tolkien, Katherine Kurtz, David Eddings, Diana Gabaldon (which might be more historical fiction than fantasy, but then again, the whole time-travel thing...). My son's turned me on to Brian Sanderson and my daughter to Tad Williams. It's what I read when I want to escape and find adventure.

My first novel was a fantasy. It's called Discoveries and is sitting on my computer at just over 95K words and isn't finished. It's close...probably another 45-50 thousand words will do it. Why haven't I published it? Because it was my learning novel. It needs a rewrite. Badly. If there were mistakes to be made, I made them.

I also didn't finish it yet, because Ellora's Cave bought Secret Submission. That was a book I wrote because I really wanted to explore the idea that a Master/slave BDSM relationship could also be a loving one. At the time, EC wasn't publishing anything but erotic romance, so...that's what I wrote. Yes, I read it as well, but they were "beach reads" - books I could read in an afternoon. I liked them, they made me feel just a little bit naughty and writing them was fun.

But the books I wanted to read, first choice, were still fantasies.

I started writing another one, the Companion series, about ten years ago. The pitch line:Stuck in a partnership neither wanted, an Earth Mother and
her Companion discover a pillaged farm and must find a way to work together as
they defend their country from an invader who has powers they don’t understand.

Avon was interested in it at one point, but ultimately passed. Probably a good thing. I didn't have the story structure down then. I do now, thanks to Lynn LaFleur who let me bounce ideas off her long-distance and who has suffered through reading the first draft of the first third of the story.

There is some sex in it, but it isn't the primary genre at all. There's action, adventure, themes of the greater good and of Power vs. what's right to do...all the components of a good fantasy. Now that I finally have the story's structure down, this is the book I'll be working on for the next several months. It's the story I want to read.

Along the way, I'll be republishing a few stories that have been out of circulation for a while as well as putting together a new anthology of short stories (just in time for Christmas!).

Oh! And the current free stories of the 12 Days of Christmas(the even numbers) are going to be 99 cents, just like the others, come November 1st. It'll still be cheaper to buy them bundled together into one volume (that book price will remain the same).

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

I have now started this particular post four times. Five,
if this one is successful.

I had great qualms about watching the 6th episode of Outlander on Starz. I knew, because
I’ve read the book, that this would be the episode detailing how Jamie’s back came
to be so scarred. Gabaldon shows her mastery of storytelling in this. In the books,
we are not told all at once. It comes out in pieces, hints here and there...and
then the full telling in all its horror.

I first learned about flogging from reading pirate romance
novels....where someone (usually the heroine) was always being threatened with
it, but it never happened. There’d be a lurid description of the
cat-o’nine-tails with the knots tied into the end for maximum damage, but it
wasn’t actually used on anyone. The threat alone was enough to maintain order.

And it was always pirates. Or the British Navy. I loved
reading about Horatio Hornblower’s adventures. But even there, everything was
muted. The horror hinted at, the blood implied. Gabaldon pulls no such punches.
She gives it to you right between the eyes and adds a gut punch to the heart
for good measure.

So why the unease at watching it play out on the screen? The
answer is twofold. First, I was concerned it wouldn’t live up to the images in
my head from the reading of it. Alfred Hitchcock made an entire career out of
letting our imaginations make the scenes far more terrifying than if he showed
us exactly what was going on. He’d give hints...the blood running down the
drain...and let our minds fill in the horrible blanks. And my mind has. I have
seen Jamie’s flogging in my head. Heard the sound of the skin tearing, seen the
pain on his face mixed with determination, felt Jack Randall’s arousal. How
could such terribleness be shown without destroying what I “saw’?

And second, what if it did live up to the images in my head?
Could I stand to watch what Jamie bore?

I witnessed my first flogging from a Dom who knew what he
was about. The thongs were made of soft deerskin, a gentle suede that massaged
rather than cut. The sub told me later, the slap of the thongs on the skin
warmed it, but didn’t hurt at all. Even as the Dom switched floggers and moved
to one with stiffer ends, no damage was done. The endorphins were released
without harm to the body.

I've been trying to figure out just why this is so important to me and it finally came after I'd written the rough draft for this post and gone to bed. Flogging is an important part of my books. All of my books have a flogging scene in them. Most of
Mystic’s do, too. They are sensual, erotic, arousing. The act is the perfect
symbol of the Dominant/submissive relationship. The bottom gives their body,
the Top gives his/her restraint. There is a beauty to them, to the journey the
two take together.

It's a journey Jack Randall perverts. He, too, is aroused by the
power that flows down his arm. But its the power of destruction, even if he
calls it (in the TV series) “art created by his arm on the lad’s back.” There
is nothing beautiful about it, nothing freeing. It is pain given for
punishment, true punishment.

To the general public, say the word "flogging" to them and that is the one they see - the painful, bloody one made sensational by dozens of pirate novels and the British Navy. It was outlawed by the US Navy in 1850, partly because of Herman Melville's description of such an incident. Flogging in the British Navy was pretty much stopped by 1881, although it was still an allowed punishment on the books until 1948.

Why am I moved to make this distinction between flogging for sexual release and flogging for punishment? I don’t know. Maybe
because I still feel a need to justify writing stories with BDSM kinks. I’ve
met many in that lifestyle who do no harm to one another, in fact, quite the
opposite. The love and bond they share is one to be emulated.

But seeing a device called by the same name that brings
pleasure bring such destruction...there's a line here that unnerves me and makes my heart hurt.

Play safe, everyone.

Diana

edited (again!) to add this link. The producers, directors and actors of Outlander were equally concerned about filming that scene.